I Feel the Sting of the Scorpion
by Singing Violin
Summary: What was going on with the Captain and Chakotay during Scorpion and The Gift? This is told from Janeway's point of view. I may eventually add more perspectives, but I've labeled it "complete" as it does function as a stand-alone.


Title: I Feel The Sting of the Scorpion  
Author: Singing Violin  
Series: Star Trek: Voyager  
Rating: K  
Summary: What was going on with the Captain and Chakotay during "Scorpion" and "The Gift"?  
Keywords: Janeway/Chakotay  
Disclaimer: They're not mine.  
Archiving: Anywhere.  
Feedback: Please.

Part I: Janeway POV

I fell in love with Chakotay three years ago, but I couldn't allow myself to get close to him. I needed my authority, my command over my crew. If I'd allowed myself that...indulgence, I would have lost control.

So I let him go.

And it is because of this that I cannot blame him for his betrayal.

He tried to warn me, with the tale of the scorpion. I thought he was talking about the Borg. He was talking about himself.

I trusted him for good reason. On New Earth, he did everything possible to make me comfortable. When I was unsatisfied, he was unhappy. When the storm hit, and I couldn't even make it back to the house because of the winds, he came to me and held me around the waist and carried the equipment for me, the ultimate act of chivalry. Then we hid under the table as my world literally came crashing down around me. The debris flew at us, and with his arm he protected me from it. As I panicked and cried while my research was destroyed, he patted my arm and held me and whispered soothing words to me.

And it was then that I realized Chakotay cared about me, deeply and desperately. More than anyone else I'd ever known, save my own family. Even Mark was never as concerned about my well-being. Of course, Mark was never with me at the end of the world...but I have a feeling he wouldn't have been nearly as thoughtful, as painstaking with his care, as frightened when I lost control of my emotions.

The next day, we worked hard to clean up and rebuild, and I was sorer than I'd been since my Academy training days. He began massaging my back, and I closed my eyes and experienced bliss beyond anything I could remember. God, he was good at that.

And then I got scared. Scared of what was happening to me, scared of what we might become. Scared that I would lose that part of me that is the Captain, that needs to command unhesitatingly and, at times, mercilessly. I couldn't let him cause me to falter, then or in the future. I needed to go it alone.

So I stopped him.

And I was still too scared to tell him why. I exited as quickly as possible and retreated to my bed. I knew he was worried, but I couldn't let him see what he'd done to me.

The next day, I got up my courage and approached him. "We need to talk about this...about us," I said. "We need to define parameters for our relationship."

Then came the fatal blow. "I don't think I can...define parameters," he said. What followed was covered in an "ancient legend," but it was basically a profession of his undying love for me. Which I was certainly not ready to accept, but I was stupid enough to let it move me.

"Is there really an ancient legend?" I asked.

"No," he answered, "but that made it easier to say."

That was the first time he saw me cry.

And when I cried, he smiled. I thought it was a smile of love, but perhaps it was more sinister. Perhaps he was enjoying having "broken" me. It would give him leverage...and it did.

Not long after we were rescued, I was so ready to do anything for him...especially since our time on New Earth seemed to have been cut short...that I brought the ship straight into a trap. I was blinded by my love for him. I believed the child was his, and that it was in danger, when it was neither of those things. When Seska's Maj slapped me, I fell...straight into Chakotay's arms. At the time it made me feel safe, it emboldened me to get right back up and look that Maj in the face without fear, even as his subordinates pushed me down to my knees.

On the planet, Chakotay's bravery impressed me for what seemed like the millionth time, and I fell in love with him all over again. When we were finally rescued, I was sure our time back on Voyager would be marked with increasing intimacy. And for a time, it was.

But it was my doing, not his.

In the shuttle accident, I watched him revive me at least twice. I watched him cry over my dead body, and try his best to find me when I was a ghost. Only, all of it was a hallucination, it was my own mind's version of Chakotay that was so unbelievably caring, and the real Chakotay barely seemed concerned when I came back to life. He supported me as I walked back to the shuttle, but he was jovial...perhaps he thought in my weakened state, he could convince me of anything.

He was right.

When I was back on my feet, he appeared in my ready room and presented me with a pink rose. I think that means friendship. I was so taken that I invited him to the holodeck for "a bottle of Champagne and a moonlit sail on Lake George." I flirted with him all the way out the door. How could I have been so blind?

He seduced me again, right before his ultimate betrayal. "You're not alone," he told me, "we'll face this together." I put my hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes with ultimate trust and, yes...love.

He even asked me to dinner, pointing out that I hadn't eaten in 24 hours. I brushed him off. He pointed out that I hadn't slept in two days, and he was right. But I swear that wasn't affecting my judgment. He apparently thought it was, though, because I soon found myself face to face with a naysayer, questioning my orders and yelling at me that he knew me, that I didn't know when to step back, and that what I was doing was wrong.

I should have known the tale of the scorpion was a warning.

Instead, I smiled at him sadly and told him, "I guess I am alone after all...dismissed." I saw the hurt on his face as he left, and, honestly, I took pleasure in it. For misery loves company, and I'd given him my heart and he'd just ripped it out of my chest.

After that, we barely spoke. When I made the agreement to stay on the Borg ship to work, I'll admit that part of my desire to remain there was to avoid him.

But when I was hurt, I forgot that I was angry with him. When the doctor told me I might not survive, all I could think of was that I could trust him with my ship, with my crew, that he would get them home. I didn't accept that he could betray me, despite his misgivings. I'd forgotten that the Chakotay that cried over my dead body and would have done anything to honor my wishes was just a figment of my alien-inhabited imagination.

Lying on that bio bed, all I saw in his face was my own hope. In his eyes, I saw love. I grasped at his shoulder - a lifeline - I wanted to touch him one more time, because I still felt comfort in it. When the doctor came to say he had to put me under, I didn't notice how perfunctorily my one-time friend removed my hand from his shoulder and placed it upon my abdomen. Instead of caressing my hand, it was as if he were removing a distasteful bug from his person. But I felt only the warmth of his hand, comforting me as the medicine took effect.

Imagine my surprise to awaken only to find out that he had disobeyed my orders, killed the Borg drones...betrayed me, in the worst possible way.

I began to yell at him, realizing that perhaps he had been planning this all along. He fought back. Then I realized that if I let him continue to argue with me, I would lose it all - my ship, my soul. So I made a concession, pointed out that the war inside the ship needed to stop before we could win the war outside. However, our "peace treaty" was anything but comforting. Both of us knew it would be a long time - if ever - before we would truly trust each other again. Luckily, our professionalism took over and ended up saving us. But our friendship had not been repaired. When I made the order, "Chakotay...scorpion!" I hadn't fully realized the extent of the damage.

I wrote my log entry in ink that day, with a quill pen in the holodeck. When he came in to retrieve me, he tried again to make peace. "Disobeying your orders was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," he told me. If only I could believe that. I pretended to believe it, told him that I respected his decision, even if I didn't agree with it, but I don't think he bought my avowal any more than I bought his. My final comment was more desperate than I intended. "What matters is that we got through this...together. I don't ever want that to change."

"Agreed," he answered me, but it was an uneasy truce. I was painfully aware of the distance between us as we left for the bridge. He used to walk next to me, to use any excuse to casually touch me, but this time he left at least a foot between us, and without him near, I felt empty.

It was no wonder that the subsequent turmoil with Seven of Nine and Kes took its toll on me. Feeling the absence of Commander Chakotay's friendship, I was much more reckless than I otherwise would have been, going into the Brig with Seven after she told me she'd kill me. Part of me was almost wishing she would, so I wouldn't have to face my crew again knowing that I'd lost the dearest part of it.

And things only got worse. When Kes told me she had to leave, I could not contain my tears. The past few days had been too much for even my hardened Captain's exterior to withstand.

I was on the bridge when Kes gave us her final gift, and when I realized what she'd done, I began to cry, even as I announced what had just happened.

And then he was there, rescuing me, again.

"Captain, can I see you in your ready room?" he asked, quickly and uneasily. I nodded and he followed me inside. He still didn't touch me, but he looked at me and said four little words that destroyed me. "Kathryn, are you okay?"

I couldn't even answer. My hand went to my mouth, and as tears spilled from my eyes, I shook my head no. In an instant, I was in his arms, sobbing out my frustration, my stress, my sadness, and my exhaustion. His arms went around me and I took comfort in the gesture, mostly because at the time, I was too exhausted to fight myself, and too in need of comfort to care that the one giving it was the one that had caused me to need it.

When I regained my composure and gently pushed him away, he went to my replicator and ordered me a glass of water, and after handing it to me, did not touch me again.

During the whole exchange, there were no words between us. I think we were afraid that the brokenness between us would surface if we spoke.

Even now, when I know that he has broken me, that perhaps that was his intent all along, that he now has a power over me that a first officer should never have over his captain, I still love him. Perhaps that will be my undoing. I have been stung by the scorpion, and so I drown.


End file.
